


home is wherever i'm with you

by parthevia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post War, Self-Harm, Smoking, Uchiha Obito Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parthevia/pseuds/parthevia
Summary: "I wish you would've just came home."
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	home is wherever i'm with you

**Author's Note:**

> might not be too accurately canonically, but i wanted something gentle tonight

Moonlight cascaded through one of the windows, forming an illuminated pool of light on the expanse of the plush, navy blue comforter in Kakashi's itty bitty apartment. He briefly wondered why this place was so damned small-- a ninja of his caliber should be able to afford something at least a _little_ bigger, right? Even the mattress was kinda shitty, a weird combination of being too firm, yet too soft, all at the same time. Kakashi was sleeping on the floor, and Obito could hear the occasional stir from the man, shifting in order to make himself more comfortable. Er. . . as comfortable one could be after getting home from a drastic war that permanently altered history, that they both played key roles in. 

That Obito played the role of the villain in. 

He shouldn't be here right now, really. Obito Uchiha should be dead, corpse rotting into the soil, by now. He shouldn't of made it to the fight against Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, even if he couldn't remember the majority of the past couple days. There was no permission given to him to return to the Leaf Village, actually-- with his luck, the Fifth Hokage might burst in here any moment and drag him off to be executed for his crimes against humanity. 

A little dramatic. 

But probably warranted, maybe. Gods, he didn't know. Nobody really talked, as it was preferable to hit any surface and pass out following the war, as well as what had happened between Sasuke and Naruto. Two children who now knew his identity. They buried their dead, and there was silence, especially tonight. He didn't even have the energy to take Kakashi up on the offer to use his shower, blessed to be crawling under a decent blanket, in a decent bed, in a decent. . . home. It's certainly not something he's done in a long, long time. Even sleeping was something considerably foreign to him, now. The circles underneath his eye sockets were so prominent now that they'd likely be a permanent ordeal, an alteration in the creasing of his scars on the right side of his body. 

If he was so undeniably exhausted, though, why couldn't he fucking actually fall asleep? The fatigue wracked his frame, and he was in a safe place, now, but he felt restless all the same. 

By the way Kakashi was rustling around on the ground, he was sure that the man was feeling relatively similar. So Obito spoke in a hushed whisper, preserving his already hoarse voice in checking his suspicions. It almost made him feel like a little kid again, murmuring to his teammate in a silent tent, careful not to make Rin nor Minato stir.

"Kakashi," It was strange to utter this name-- a foreign concept that he likely shouldn't have the liberty of doing. 

"Mmmm." 

So he was still awake. 

"Can I smoke in here?" 

"Don't care." 

So he snagged the pack off the cluttered nightstand (it was only messy because it occupied Obito's limited belongings), and lit one of the tubes, and he couldn't help but stare at the man before him. Kakashi was turned away from him, facing the wall, his face unconcealed. He wondered how many people had seen his bare skin, if it was something he shared with those close to him-- it certainly wasn't something Obito felt like he should be graced with. The scent of the smoke swirled around the bedroom, which must've irritated Kakashi more than he desired to let on, as he was now upright, too, solemn gaze fixed on the door. Picking at his chipped nail polish, the black haired man tried to not bore a hole in his ex-teammate's back, attempting to focus on literally anything else. 

Swallowing thickly when Kakashi came to his senses and turned to face him, he couldn't keep eye contact. They might've been apart for so long, but neither of them were clueless to the latter's nerves, tension hanging over the bedroom like a cloud beckoning a severe storm. There was now an indent in the mattress made by the new weight of Kakashi, who was absently waving the air to disperse the smell. Obito couldn't keep his eyes off of the bare arms that were littered in deep scars, but he couldn't help but wonder about the narrow, angry, splotchy patches of flesh that were more than likely self-inflicted, and covering every square inch of his visible body in that damn tank-top that adorned his chest. 

"Why would you do fucking do that to yourself?" He never was good at keeping his mouth shut, after all.

Heaving a sigh, Kakashi shot daggers his way. "You're smoking, I don't believe you can criticize me, considering these are all old, yet your lungs are suffering." That shut him right up, uncertain of how to reply to such a pointed comment. After a pregnant pause of silence consisting of crickets singing outside the building, his tone lowered, losing the irritated momentum. "I inadvertently killed both of my closest friends, any child would've responded in the same manner." He wasn't wrong. Obito could only imagine the constant horror his friend was tormented by for years, yet, he was so selfishly fixated on his own suffering, that he never considered the flip side of the coin. Some of that blame was shouldered on him, however, as the unmentioned name of Minato was ghosting the air, another prominent individual that had been lost by the direct actions of one of them. 

"I wish you would've just came home." 

The statement sent chills up Obito's spine, and he was returned to their conversation as soon as his methodical façade had shattered by the hands of Naruto Uzumaki, Kakashi asking for the reasons _why_ Obito hadn't stepped foot in his home village if he was still alive. There was a plethora to be had, but there was nothing to say in response when it was merely Kakashi musing about what could've been had those reasons dissipated. To be honest, the fact that he wasn't dead at this very moment made him wish he had, too. So much pain could've been avoided. . . but in particular, he knew he played a hand in the way Kakashi mutilated his body, and if he had just fucking come home, there would be no marred skin to be staring intently at. Obito could've saved Kakashi, like he did so long ago, but in the end, their roles were reversed, and he was the reason he was still able to feel the burn of the nicotine erupting in his lungs at this very moment. 

With his cigarette gone, he nervously tugged his calloused, dirty fingers through his freshly snow white hair (he'd get used to it, hopefully), and directed hazy optics towards the hardwood of the apartment. 

"Did you never go after her because you knew?" This was in reference to Rin-- Obito knew how she had felt about their teammate, and how vividly she unintentionally rejected his constant display of romantic affections in preference for Kakashi. It had always made his cheeks flush with jealousy as he watched her blossoming expression whenever Kakashi did literally anything, always proving to be his biggest fan. Come to think of it, he was wondering why there wasn't a woman living here with him. At their age, it was commonplace to be married already, or at least, desire to be. 

Kakashi didn't meet the question, and perhaps, bringing her up wasn't his most optimal choice, when he had nowhere else he could be at the moment. Facial expression complacent, Obito said a silent prayer. 

Watching the silver haired man's ministrations as he went to scratch at one of the clearly healed wounds, there was a slight curiosity if that was one that was inflicted upon his body in memory of her. 

"No, Obito." This was agonizing to endure, the drawn out responses, the uncertainty. . . he almost regretted initiating any interaction with Kakashi. They could've both been asleep, or pretending to be, and maybe things would have turned out normal without an emotional conversation. Kakashi's cut up fingers shook, he observed. "I never had an interest in Rin romantically, before nor after Kannabi Bridge. I was under the impression that you understood that, you know." 

"She fucking adored you, though. Every single time I'd even think of bringing it up to her, she would always be raving about Kakashi this, Kakashi that." 

"Does our first private conversation in years have to be about the mistakes I made, because I'm sure there's plenty other ones you can mention instead." He was met with ice, frosting over Kakashi's words and making him seem even more unreachable than before. To think that just a little bit ago, he was the one leading their conversation on the battlefield, making Kakashi's head-spin. But now Obito was faced with the harsh reality of being at an equal status with the rest of the world, his delusions of grandeur far drained from his system. 

Silence. 

"I loved you. I loved you and your annoyingly loud, childish voice, your arrogance, your dreams." There was so much left unsaid, yet too much on the table to begin with. "I don't like women. I don't ever plan on getting married, Obito, nor having children." This sounded like a secret that resided in-between Kakashi's bedsheets and pitch black room, one that had never once left his lips before tonight, and it's certainly not what Obito had been expecting to come out of him. "I promised myself I would never love anyone but you again, because you're my hero. I told you this. Nobody else could ever even begin to compare." 

Tears were slipping down pale cheeks and onto Kakashi's pant-leg, and he couldn't gather even a thought that would be appropriate to respond with. 

"Aren't I supposed to be the crybaby ninja?" 

More of that goddamn silence, because he'd just responded to Kakashi coming out with the most moronic statement ever made. He'd never considered the possibility that his closest friend loved _him._ And there really wasn't anything to fill that permeating quiet, other than the suppressive sniffles coming out of Kakashi's mouth, having been covered by his hand. It was clear embarrassment. 

So when Obito's hands moved to pry Kakashi's own from his face, clasping his fingers around the tear-soaked ones, he was met with a flushed face, stained cheeks only gathering more and more moisture. He held onto him cautiously, not wanting to overwhelm him. 

He'd never seen Kakashi cry. 

"You don't need to pity me," The words were mangled, coming from a choked throat that sounded like it wasn't even sure how to form syllables anymore, and Obito shook his head. He didn't know how he felt, but he knew he wanted to hold Kakashi in whatever way he would be allowed to. 

Maybe when they were younger, Kakashi had wanted to hold Obito too, when he was crying, which was relatively often. Wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but wonder. 

Maybe when they were younger, if he wasn't so caught up in himself, he would've noticed Kakashi's feelings. 

Maybe when they were younger, he would've come back, had he known. 

But it was too late to change what was long recorded history, so he took a leap for the future, contrastively. Obito raised the hand that was held firmly in his grasp, and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it, never once even faltering in his grip. "Please-- Obito, I've long since accepted that you never felt the same, I'd rather not feel that all over again." 

"Can we lay together?" Ignoring the constant rejective, dismissive statements would work better than trying to combat Kakashi. Even now, Obito knew that once Kakashi had made up his mind, there was no altering his mindset. He was met with a reluctant, tearful nod, so he shifted his position (with the bed creaking, mind you), to swing his full frame back onto the mattress, pulling the covers open while gesturing to Kakashi. "Come." 

Situated within the depths of the bed, now, both laying on their sides, facing each other-- Obito felt sorry for the scent of the cigarette on his breath as Kakashi was in range to smell his breath. Bringing an arm out from the comforter, he cupped the man's cheek, stroking through the tears with his thumb. 

If someone had told him when he was younger that Kakashi Hatake loved him, he would've laughed in their face and called them disgusting and ill-informed of his relationship with his rival. 

Yet, here they were, so physically close to one another. 

"Kakashi, I don't really know if I love you." He could almost feel how badly that stabbed him. "But. I'm here, now. I don't know if I'll stay, 'cause we don't know if they'll let me. I do know, though," Taking in a sharp inhale through his noise, Obito slowly allowed the air to exit his lungs before continuing his albeit risky next move. "My heart's beating like crazy, and my stomach feels weird. Everything's happening kind of fast for me, right now, since I never thought I'd step foot in this fucking place again." 

Altering their embrace, he pulled himself closer to Kakashi, noses brushing against each other, making Obito's skin slightly damp. He was trying to keep his own tears down in preference of calming Kakashi down, because he could physically feel how uncomfortably tense he was. Experimentally placing a hand on his waist, his mouth twitched into a small, uncertain smile. 

"I think if I'm gonna stay here, I wouldn't mind waking up next to you every morning, or whatever, you know?" Suddenly, Kakashi's entire face was buried in the crook of his neck, putting their bodies impossibly close to each other. Obito had never had anyone embrace him like this, but it wasn't an unwelcome feeling. 

Kakashi spoke through messy tears once more, moving to look directly into Obito's sunken, exhausted eyes. Their lips were pressed together after a moment, a secret that would remain between the pair. 

"Welcome home, Obito." 


End file.
